By The Firelight
by Isolation Shepherd
Summary: Prompt Fic: Heavy rain, an empty beach, except for Marcus who sits there alone, upset over something. Abby finds him, but will they find a place to warm up in? For Suvi @supsi85


When she'd started her search the skies were a dull grey; rain threatened, but held off for the hour or so it took her to hike from their encampment to her current position. Now it was starting to fall; the few fat drops that had made her look up startled when they fell on her nose had become a steady shower, and Abby was keen to find Marcus before it became a deluge.

Behind her loomed the broken and twisted remains of Mecha Station, ugly against the background of snow-capped mountains and forested hills. Was it only a couple of months since they'd landed here, Abby thought? They had lived through so much since then. Ahead of her was the lake, so calm and reflective when they first saw it; now it looked cold and grey. From her viewpoint on a small rise she could see to the end of the lake where the hillside came down almost to the edge, ending in a beach of white sand. It was difficult to see from this distance and in the rain but she could just make out a dark figure on the shore.

Abby picked her way carefully down the grassy slope of the rise, made slippery by the rain. When she got to level ground she picked up speed, running faster as the rain became heavier. Marcus was sitting on the sand a few yards ahead of her, hugging his knees which were drawn up to his chest. He was staring down at the sand and didn't appear to have heard or seen her approaching. She walked up to him. "Marcus," she said, breathlessly." I've been looking for you for hours. You missed the planning meeting. Bellamy said he'd seen you heading in this direction and…" Her voice trailed off as she realised he was not responding to her at all; something was wrong. She stepped in front of him, blocking the view of the lake. "Marcus?"

"What are you doing here, Abby?" he asked without looking up. His words came out as a low growl, bitter-sounding. His tone surprised Abby.

"I, I came to find you. You left without a word; you've been gone all day. I was worried."

"I'm fine," he said in the same low tone. "I just needed some peace and quiet."

"And you had to come all the way out here for that? You don't sound fine." Abby knelt on the wet sand so she was at his level and put one hand tentatively on his arm. She stroked it gently, trying to ease whatever was bothering him with her touch. The rain was stronger now, its heavy droplets bouncing off Marcus's thin leather jacket and her hand. "What's wrong, Marcus?" He finally raised his head to look at her and despite the rain that was dripping steadily down his face she could tell that he was crying. His eyes were red and tears welled in the corners. Abby didn't know what to make of this. She had seen Marcus in some intimate situations and he had come close to despair a few times: when they were trapped under the rubble of TonDC and most recently when they were held hostage by the Mountain Men. He had cried out when they drilled into her leg to extract the bone marrow, pleading with Cage to stop, but he had never shed actual tears. Abby's heart ached at the sight.

The tears slid down his face and she did the only thing she knew to do, which was to wipe them away with her thumbs, holding his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. This had always worked with Clarke. She searched his deep brown eyes. "What has happened?"

Marcus sighed deeply and shook his head: "Mount Weather." He closed his eyes, still shaking his head. "I can't get those people out of my mind. Their cries, the pain they must have felt. How could we do that to them?"

Abby felt a stab of pain and fear in her chest at his words. How long had he been torturing himself with these thoughts? If he thought this about himself, what did he think of Clarke? It had been her decision after all, not his. This was not a discussion she felt keen on having, but Marcus clearly needed to talk.

"We had no choice, Marcus. You know that."

"We always have a choice and every choice we've made has been wrong, Abby. We haven't learned."

Abby remembered having a similar conversation to this many months ago, only that time it was Marcus who was convinced there was only one way. He had changed, but was clearly struggling with the complex emotions uncertainty brings.

"That's not true. Look, we can't have this discussion here, you're soaking wet and so am I." She got to her feet and took hold of his hands to pull him up but he resisted. "Come back to camp; we can talk about it in the dry."

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not ready for people yet."

"Well, we can't stay here. This rain is not going to let up anytime soon." Abby looked around for some shelter. Across the beach there was a dark recess in the hillside. "It looks like there's a cave or something over there. Hopefully it will provide some cover."

Marcus allowed her to pull him to his feet this time and they headed over to the cave. The beach had become waterlogged in places and the wet sand stuck to Abby's boots and jeans. She realised from the squelching that was coming from her left foot as she walked that her boots were not completely waterproof. The recess was large enough for even Marcus to enter without having to stoop. The entrance was wet, with water dripping from the ceiling but after a few yards the ground was dry. The earth was soft and sandy and a few ferns grew where the daylight still penetrated. Further in though and the cave was black. Abby took her torch out of her backpack and shone it into the recess. The beam's weak light showed up damp rocky walls and not much else. She also found a stack of dry driftwood and the remains of a campfire near the entrance. The cave had obviously been used for shelter before.

"Why don't you get a fire lit," she said, passing her tinder kit to Marcus. He took it without comment and she watched as he methodically built the fire, laying two logs parallel to the breeze coming from the cave entrance and filling the gap between them with the kindling. A few practised strikes of the steel against the flint and he had an ember glowing in the dry grass. He knelt by the fledgling fire, watching it intently. It was a couple of minutes before the flames took a hold and the fire was ready for the larger logs. They did not speak in that time; Abby quietly passed the logs to Marcus and he arranged them in a pyramid. Once he was satisfied that the fire had taken, he looked up at her and she smiled in approval.

"Guess I can still get something right."

"You always did pay attention in Earth Skills."

He gave a small smile at that and then shivered. Abby realised that she too was cold. She hadn't noticed while they were preoccupied building the fire but now her soaking wet clothes were sticking to her body and making her shiver as well. They were too wet and the fire too young to allow any warmth to get through.

"We need to get out of our wet things or we'll become hypothermic." She helped Marcus shrug out of his jacket and laid it on the floor on the other side of the fire. "Trousers next," she instructed. He looked at her for a long moment but then complied, peeling his canvas pants down his legs and stepping out of them. He put them next to the jacket and Abby noticed how lean he was. His legs were long and supple and the muscles stretched and flexed as he bent over. Marcus never carried much body fat but he seemed thinner to Abby than he was just a couple of weeks ago when she'd checked him over after the Mount Weather incident. His grey t-shirt was loose on his frame. He moved to pull the shirt over his head but Abby stopped him.

"Probably best you don't take that off. It's not warm enough to have no clothes on at all – the heat from the fire and your body will soon dry it."

Marcus sat down with his back to the fire trying to dry the t-shirt quickly.

Abby took her own jacket off and her drenched shirt, leaving her with a fitted vest top to give her some modesty. She unbuttoned her jeans and tried to peel them off but they had been tight to begin with and the rain had shrunk them to her body. She couldn't get them down by herself, and certainly not while standing up. It was mortifying but she was going to have to ask Marcus for help.

"Erm, Marcus. Do you think you can help me get these off?"

He stood up and moved over to her, and she could tell he wanted to smile despite his black mood.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I'll roll the top down and then I'll have to lie down so you can try and peel them off. They're kind of stuck to my skin." She rolled the top of her jeans down, careful not to take her underwear with them because that would have been beyond embarrassing. When they were at the top of her thighs there was too much material to roll them further and she sat down as best she could with her legs virtually pinned together by the jeans.

Marcus was not hiding his amusement anymore; a broad smile lit up his face. Abby was glad to see it even if it was at her expense. "Where do you want me to…" he gestured around as to where he should sit, what he should do.

"Oh, just do whatever you need to do."

"Well, we need to get these off first." He knelt before her, slowly undoing the ties on each of her boots, the soft leather laces sliding easily through his deft fingers. He pulled the boots off and turned them upside down. A small stream of water spilled out of her left boot. He took the sock off that foot and laid it next to the boots. Abby rested her bare foot on the ground, the sandy earth felt cool between her toes. Now the boots were off the jeans were next. He straddled her; his legs planted either side of her lower body. He grabbed hold of the jeans and tugged but they didn't want to part from her skin easily.

"I'm going to have to touch you," he said. His voice was still low, but the bitter edge was gone.

Abby nodded her agreement, not trusting her voice to be calm. His proximity was causing feelings to bubble up that she'd successfully kept at bay for the last three months. One of his hands clutched the jeans, the other slid inside between her leg and the material to ease them apart. His fingers brushed her underwear in an intimate place because there was no way they could not and Abby jumped at the touch.

"I'm sorry," he said. "There's no other way to do this." There was a faint flush on his face as he glanced at her then back to what he was doing.

"It's okay; your hand was cold that's all," That was a blatant lie because his hand was warm against her skin, his touch gentle yet firm. Abby felt goose bumps rising on her arms and legs that were nothing to do with being cold. He worked on one leg at a time, getting the trousers as far down as they would go before moving to the other leg and repeating the process. At last the jeans were off and he added them to the line of clothes slowing drying on the other side of the fire.

Abby sat up, feeling exposed by more than the fact that she was sitting in a cave in her underwear with Marcus who was similarly underdressed. Marcus settled down as well and they sat side by side looking out past the fire and across the white sandy beach to the lake. The wind had picked up, causing waves to ripple the edge of the lake shore. She imagined this was what seeing the ocean would be like, except there would be no end to it, just an expanse of blue-grey water as far as the eye could see. Abby slipped her barrette off and shook her wet hair out, running her fingers through it to detangle it as best she could. She was aware that Marcus was watching her whilst stoking the fire with a stick. Sparks flew and the fire hissed and crackled at his touch. The cave was filled with a warm orange glow and the comforting smell of wood smoke. It was darker outside than it should be at this time of day because the clouds were low and heavy; the rain was sheeting now and starting to obscure the view of the lake as the wind blew the clouds towards them.

Marcus had slipped back into a mood that was either melancholy or contemplative, she couldn't decide which. He had drawn his knees up to his chest again and was watching the flames dance, their shadows flickering across his face. Across from him, their clothes were starting to steam as the water evaporated under the warmth of the fire. It would take a while, though. She was silently debating how long to wait before broaching what happened out on the beach when he spoke.

"This is not about Clarke, you know. I don't want you to think that I blame her because I don't."

Abby shouldn't have been surprised really that he'd mentioned Clarke, reassuring her that he didn't hold her responsible. He had developed a leader's skill of knowing what mattered to others the most. She still felt the need to defend her daughter, though. "Clarke did the only thing she could to save us."

"I know that. It's about survival, always has been." He shifted position so that he was facing her. "But why did our survival matter more than theirs. They were trying to survive the same as us."

"Yes, but at the expense of others! Don't forget they were killing Grounders and making Reapers!"

"The leaders were, but the rest of them? How much did they know about what was going on outside, cocooned in that mountain tomb? And yet they paid with their lives."

Marcus poked at the fire angrily. Embers and ash flew out towards them, a small shower landing on the bare skin of her leg. She cried out, more with shock than pain. Marcus dropped the stick in the fire and brushed the debris from her leg. He rubbed it, looking for any marks. There was just an unremarkable red spot. "It's fine, don't worry," she said.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just…" he shrugged helplessly. "All of this was because we were trying to save our people on the Ark and yet when you look at the figures, we've killed more people than we saved. Has it been worth it?"

"Marcus, all of this is because we are a clan, a family; we love each other, and when you do that, you do anything to protect your family and keep them safe. They were doing the same for their family."

Marcus shook his head. "I just feel that there has to be a better way. One that doesn't lead to people gasping for air in front of you, using their last breaths to cry out in pain." He looked up at her, his eyes glistening with tears again.

"Marcus…" Her hands flew to his face, wanting to touch him, to comfort him. She wasn't sure if this was the right thing, if this was what he wanted, but he didn't stop her. Everyone should feel the touch of another human at times of crisis.

"Their faces, Abby, when we went to collect the bodies. They were so disfigured by the radiation. It must have been terrifying, excruciating." He sobbed then; a great heaving sob that racked his body. Abby's heart broke.

"You can't keep things like this inside, Marcus. I'm here, let me help you."

She stroked his face, fingers fluttering over the rough stubble of his nascent beard. His sobs slowly lessened and he watched her, his eyes dark and unreadable. Before she knew what she was doing, she had pulled him in and pressed her lips to his face, kissing the salty tracks of his tears until she found his mouth. She kissed him there gently, tentatively. His lips were warm and damp. At first she thought he wasn't going to respond but then his hands snaked up her back and he returned the kiss, sighing into her mouth, hugging her to him. His tongue found hers and they kissed deeply, fingers entwined through each other's hair. It shocked her, the strength of his need, and her own. He held her so tightly it was as though he never wanted to let her go.

The kiss lasted a minute or so; it felt like forever until they broke apart, breathless in the firelight. It had gone dark outside. A full-blown storm was pounding the sand outside the cave. The light from the fire cast shadows across Marcus's face. His eyes were liquid and boring intently into hers; their faces were inches apart.

"Are we really doing this?" he whispered. She wondered if he actually meant 'should we really be doing this?' which was a question she was asking herself. It felt right and wrong at the same time. Right because she thought they had been building to this moment for some time; wrong because he was vulnerable and she didn't want to take advantage of him. Was there ever a 'right' time for this, though? She made her decision.

"Shush," she said. "Let me love you."

It was awkward, sitting opposite each other on the floor, so she straddled him while he was sitting up, resting her weight on his thighs. She leaned in and kissed him again, harder this time. His hands caressed her back, underneath her vest. He fingered the scars left from the lashing. They had mostly healed pretty well but a couple of them had left ridges where the wounds hadn't knitted together properly. She saw him start in surprise as he realised what he was touching, and a look of shame crept into his eyes.

"How could I mark you like that?"

"Don't," she said. "Don't go there. It's history."

"But Abby…"

"Seriously, it was a different time. We were different then. This is who we are now." She pulled her vest top over her head so she was naked apart from her underwear. Her breasts were at the perfect height for his mouth and he pressed his lips to them, licking and sucking her nipples. They stiffened under his touch. It was as though the nerves from there ran through her whole body; she thickened and grew wet at the seams. He shifted her weight so that she was sitting on his lap. His erection was hard, straining at his pants. There was only thin cotton between them and the friction created as she rubbed herself against him was delicious. His fingers ran a trail down her belly to the top of her briefs and then his hand slipped between the elastic and her skin and eased its way down until he was cupping her. He stroked her a couple of times, his fingers sliding easily over her sex.

"Oh, God," was all Abby could manage.

"I think these need to come off," he said.

They fumbled trying to get out of their underwear, legs and arms tangling in the rush to get them off. When they were both naked, she straddled him again and he guided her until he was completely inside her. She settled there, enjoying the feeling of him filling her. His hands were splayed across her back, fingers playing out a soothing rhythm over her ribs as they explored her body.

Abby wrapped her legs tight around his lower back and they rocked slowly back and forth. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, planting soft kisses and licking trails of sweat that were forming. Her fingers were tight in the curls of his hair, twisting them as every thrust of their bodies hit the perfect spot inside her. His breathing was becoming ragged, matching hers. She felt the muscles in his neck tighten. He lifted his head and looked at her. They didn't speak, just held their gaze as they locked into a rhythm that was bringing them both to orgasm. It was intensely erotic to have someone staring so deeply into you in such an intimate moment. Abby had never kept her eyes open before. It made her feel exposed down to her very soul but she allowed it to happen, returned the look and watched as his eyes darkened, his nostrils flared and he breathed her name: "Abby…" She reached down and with a couple of practised strokes of her fingers she was coming as well.

Afterwards they lay side by side next to the fire, his arm around her back, her head on his shoulder, fingers playing absentmindedly with the sparse hairs on his chest. He reached out with his other arm and placed a log lazily on the fire. It flared briefly then settled into a contented glow.

"I didn't know I needed this, Abby. I didn't know it was you," he said, kissing the top of her head.

She lifted her head to look at him. "I'm not your saviour, Marcus, but I can be by your side, if you'll let me. We can make the journey together."

Outside the storm had eased but the clouds were still fat with rain. Inside, the fire crackled merrily, bathing them in its warm glow.

Marcus smiled at her. "I think I'd like that." He stretched, his muscles shifting and rippling beneath his skin. He turned so that they were facing each other. "It doesn't look as though the rain is going to stop anytime soon." He ran his fingers down her arm so lightly his touch left ghost shivers on her skin. Her body cleaved to him, wanting more contact.

"We may be here for a while," she replied, reaching down to where he was already waiting for her touch.


End file.
